b I own nothing. Sherlock belongs to BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, and Sir Arthur Coran Doyle. I'm just dabbling in their universe. I am making no money off of this. Please do not sue me. /b

It was one of ithose/i days.

One of those days when Jen wants to beat her head against the wall and wonders why, for the millionth time, she had agreed to be the flatmate of Sherlock bloody Holmes.

Sherlock was in one of his black moods. The tiniest thing set him off. And everything bored him. He was downright intolerable, sulking on the couch like a two year old after telling Jen off.

She contemplates storming out, going to the park to clear her head, or maybe going over to Sarah's.

But, unlike times in the past, she decides that is not the move. Not today.

No. Today, today Sherlock needs her to stay.

Not that he'd actually admit it…

She stares at his back for a long moment, her mind connecting dots collected from the argument not two minutes ago. Trying to understand what was going on in her flatmate's head.

After a long moment, it clicks.

She knows what is wrong.

She gets up from her chair and walks into the kitchen, putting a kettle for tea on. After several long moments, she brings two steaming cups of tea, hers with a bit of milk that was still good, his with two sugars, back into the living space. She sits on the small table in front of the sofa, the one Sherlock constantly walks on and stares at Sherlock.

After a long moment, Sherlock turns, his stormy eyes glaring bullets into her, his handsome features taught with annoyance. Jen stared him down, holding the tea out to him like a peace offering.

Sherlock soon relents, sitting up and taking the tea.

For a long while, they just sit there in silence, sipping their tea from their respective perches.

At least, until Sherlock breaks the silence.

"Why do you put up with me?"

Jen pauses in raising her tea to her lips, her blue eyes meeting his. Her head tilts to the side in silent puzzlement, asking him to explain.

"I'm a Sociopath. I'm not the nicest person, even to you. Especially to you. I haven't exactly made the flat the most comfortable place for you. Especially, with my experiments and the messes and the shooting the wall."

Jen covered her smile with her cup as she took another sip of tea.

"You've seen how I treat other people. I'm brisk, cold, aloof, and on most occasions, downright cruel." He wasn't looking her in the eye anymore. "Any normal person would have left by now."

"So, why do you put up with me, Jen?"

Jean swallows her tea, thinking. Why did she put up with Sherlock?

It most certainly wasn't just for the rush that came with following him around London, chasing bad guys though the craziest places. Sure, it was a battlefield and it made Jen feel needed, but that couldn't be it.

It certainly wasn't because he was particularly nice to her… sure he had his moments…when he was really sensitive in his own awkward way.

But neither of these reasons were enough for her to stay and deal with the black moods.

So why did she stay?

"Because people don't leave their partners behind, especially when they are under fire."

The words escaped Jen's lips before she could fully understand what she was saying. Sure, she'd heard that statement enough in Afghanistan, in the midst of training and actual battle.

But they fit so perfectly to this situation.

Sherlock was, for lack of a better term, her partner. She watched his back on cases. Hell, she'd killed a man for Sherlock!

And there was…the fluttering feeling deep within her that made her stomach flip when she watched Sherlock at crime scenes, or even when they would have a polite chat at Angelo's or in the cabs.

Could that have something to do with why she stayed? She wasn't sure.

She looked up at him after a moment of silence, her eyes locking on his.

And suddenly, she almost lost her grip on her mug.

Sherlock's eyes were bright, not as bright as when he was at a crime scene, but bright with…tears.

And in that moment, Jen Watson could practically see ever rejection Sherlock Holmes had experienced in his life time flash through his eyes.

And it was breaking her heart.

With trembling hands, Jen set her cup on the table and took his from his hands. As soon as the cups were out of the way, she reached across the space between them and embraced the man, her arms wrapping around his thin shoulders and her face resting in his neck.

At first, the consulting detective stiffened, and Jen thought he was going to push her away.

But he didn't.

After a long moment, his long arms came around her. His long fingers digging into her back. After a long moment, Jen could feel something wet seeping through her jumper.

Jen quickly moved and was now sitting in his lap, her head atop his as he rested his in the crook of her shoulder. She runs her hand though his dark curls. She hates seeing him like this.

Neither of them say a word for a long time.

"I meant what I said." Sherlock whispered after a long moment.

"Hm?"

"At Sebastian's office," His hand was now playing with the sleeve of her stripped jumper. "When I called you my Friend."

Ah. So ithat/i was what this was about.

"I'm sorry I corrected you. I didn't understand." Jen whispered into his curls. "If you are willing, the next time, I won't correct you. I'm honored to be your friend, Sherlock."

She could feel him smile. He opened his mouth to say something—

And his phone rings.

Jen jumps out of Sherlock's arms as he dives for the mobile and, after quickly looking at the caller, answers it. "Sherlock Holmes."

Jen reaches down and picks up both of the mugs, heading to the kitchen.

"Of course!" Sherlock exclaims from the other room.

A smile pulls at Jen's lip. She knows what's coming and pours the tea down the drain.

Sherlock has hung up and changed out of his dressing gown by the time Jen returns to the living room.

"Lestrade has a case for us!" He's practically beaming. "Get your coat!"

A real smile pulls at Jen's lip as she says, "Coming, Coming." In an false exasperated tone.

And they are off. The best crime fighting team in all of London, off to catch criminals that the police force alone had difficulty catching.

But in the back of both of their minds, they subconsciously mull over Jen's words…

And the words silently expressed in their hug.

iI'm not leaving you.

I care about you.

You are worth it.

You are worth dealing with.

Because you are my Partner, my very Best Friend.,/i

bA/N: Reviews are nice! Thanks for reading!/b